Moments
by little-black-wings
Summary: The moments we live make up our lives as a whole. A drabble a day, of the moments that make up the lives of our beloved Bleach characters. A drabble list with 400 prompts, but feel free to send in prompt ideas! /OC's have been used in a few drabbles/
1. Phobia

AN: This story is going to have _a lot _of chapters- the drabble list I'm getting them from goes up to around four hundred, so seriously, a lot. Also, the name might change, depending on if I think of anything better along the way. This story should be updated once a day, as I am trying to use this as a drabble-a-day sort of thing, but it is not set in stone.

_Bleach is copyrighted to Tite Kubo. This story has been written for entertainment purposes only, and has not been used to make profit. _

* * *

Toshiro grimaced, watching with wide turquoise eyes as it raised another spindly, hairy appendage. The leg waved around in the air for a moment before pressing back down on the paper, which crinkled underneath the feathery weight.

_He will not scream._

The pen in his shaking hand dripped a small dot of rich black ink on the paper, right beside the creature, and Toshiro bit his lip when it marched right through it, leaving a trail of tiny footprints in it's wake. It was hideous. It was disgusting. He could practically taste the bile building up in the back of his throat.

_So long as Matsumoto is in the room, he will __**not **__scream._

It continued to traipse casually across his desk, across all of his immaculately finished paperwork, brushing against his cup of tea- he would have to throw that out later- before tumbling over the edge of his desk, dropping with a muted thud to the floor. Gone.

_He didn't scream._

He let out a long, wavering breath, one he hadn't known he'd been holding, and slouched back in his chair. Crisis averted, and not a single thing broken or ruined. After glancing back at his desk, however, he decided to shove the ruined (not to mention, contaminated) paperwork to the furthest corner of his desk. His heart was still pounding in his chest, threatening to burst forth should anything else even remotely stressful come at him.

"Taichou?" Not even sparing his lieutenant a look, he rubbed his brow and shook his head. No point in talking- his voice would surely crack, and he couldn't have that, not in front of Matsumoto. Deciding all was well once more, Toshiro dipped his pen back into the ink well in front of him, placing the tip of the pen on to a new sheet of paperwork.

"Since I know you're going to run off again, make sure you buy more bug spray for-" The rest of his sentence died on his tongue when he felt the telltale light weight that suddenly padded on to his foot, sharp feet poking through his socks.

He screamed.

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So! Chapter one. Reviews are greatly appreciated. If you liked, tell me why, and if not, tell me why.


	2. Worth It

AN: Not much to say here. Enjoy.

EDIT: So sorry for not updating! My computer is a little out of it, so I couldn't get on the internet for a while. But- I'm back, and ready to write! Again, thank you for waiting! Also- thank you to to Scarlett Foxie for the first review!

* * *

If he could take a moment and bottle it up, so that he could peek at it later on whenever he needed to be cheered up or happy, this would be it. The sun shone proudly against the expanse of blue sky, which was spottled with a fluffy white cloud every now and then. They drifted across the sky with a gentle breeze- not too harsh that it froze you, but not so soft that it did not much more than irritate you; it was perfect. They sat alone on top of a grassy hill, surrounded by small pink and blue flowers that seemed to open up towards them, their leaves curled in as though they were asking for a hug.

And then there was the fact that she was there with him.

She was curled at his side, with her head snuggled into the crook of his neck and her hands gently wrapped around his muscled arm that she was using as a pillow. Sure, her hair was tickling him, and he had long since lost feeling in his arm, but it was her, so it was worth it. The moment seemed surreal to him; it was almost _too _perfect. The fact that they hadn't fought once since they had gotten there was enough of a surprise to knock someone to their feet. But it was nice. Nice that they could sit down, and _shut the hell up, _just for a little while, and take joy from just being with the other.

"You know, Nii-sama will reprimand you for shirking off your duties."

"And?"

"And the fact that you shirked them off for being with _me _won't help you out either."

"I don't care. It's worth it- you're worth it."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you, fool."

"Eh, just shut up so we can sit a little longer."

And later on, when his reprimand came in the form of a colossal wave of pink petals, Renji was glad he bottled up the moment.

* * *

_Yay renruki nonsense _/shot/

And again, thank you Scarlett Foxie for the first review! /confetti/

(If anyone is a Harry Potter fan, she's written a fic for it btw)


	3. Accident

AN: Wow angst angst angst sorry not sorry enjoy (but you probably wont)

warning- character death (but seriously guys considering that this is bleach and he is who he is he'd prob pop back to life in like .5 seconds)

* * *

"Ichigo! Ichigo, you asshole, get the hell up!" This wasn't supposed to happen. _This wasn't supposed to happen._ It had been a precise jab, perfectly executed in every way. He hadn't faltered, hadn't second guessed himself, he knew it would have been the perfect strike. _Would have been. _

But Ichigo didn't dodge it.

The shiver that ran down his spine was violent and uncontrollable, like a wave of freezing water shot through his body and numbed him to the bone. Ichigo had coughed a few times, not even bothering to look down at the sword that had pierced itself through his heart. He had only tilted his head back, smiling with a thick stream of blood pouring from his mouth, and gurgled, _"You finally got me." _The sword had been ripped out in pure panic, but it was too late; Ichigo was dead before he hit the ground. His black robes were tinted with red from the blood that was seeping from his wound, and on the other side of the road, Ichigo's human body seemed to sag a bit further from where it had been left slumped against a tree. He knew it was pointless to keep yelling like an idiot. He knew Ichigo wasn't coming back. But this wasn't supposed to happen.

_ He didn't mean it! He didn't mean to kill him! It was an accident- they always fought like this, he always lurked around until Ichigo would come outside! And he would lose to Ichigo- every time!- and they would call each other names before he would run away, and Ichigo would cover for him when his shinigami friends showed up. That's how it was- that's how it always was. It wasn_'_t that they were friends. They just weren't enemies like they used to be. _

_Used to be._

"Hey...hey! Ichigo?! What- what have you done to Ichigo?!" He turned around so fast that he could have gotten whiplash, and for a moment, all time stood still. It was that girl again- the shrimpy girl, who had the pleasure of having her guts ripped through with his fist. She stood beside Ichigo's dead human body, her purple eyes wide and mouth hanging open in utter disbelief and horror. He stared back, and he knew how it must've looked: him, in release, with blood coating every inch of his body and a deranged glint to his eyes.

"...Grimm...jow?"

He turned around and ran, and he didn't look back.

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huehuehue im an ass

please enjoy this ooc grimmjow and dead ichigo and broken hearted rukia

yes im horrible someone stop me


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